Listen To Your Heart
by Nebraskafan
Summary: The curse of the Elves is to feel the longing of the Sea. The curse of loving a mortal when you are immortal is to feel the pain of leaving them behind. Legolas faces both


**Listen To Your Heart**

****_**Disclaimer**_**: I do not own any of the characters or places that are associated with the Lord of the Rings. They all belong to J.R.R Tolkien. (Elthain, Aragorn's horse, however, is mine. :-)**

_**A/N**_**: Well, I am posting this little story on a complete whim. When I made my account I planned to **_**never **_**publish anything. But this was something that had been in my head for a while, and several other stories inspired me to work on – and share – it. So here goes nothing. Any thoughts or constructive criticism is appreciated. :-)**

**Post-LOTR.  
**  
_**Summary**_: The curse of the Elves is to feel the longing of the Sea. The curse of loving a mortal when you are immortal is to feel the pain of leaving them behind. Legolas faces both.

~.~.~

_Sometimes you wonder if this fight is worthwhile_  
_The precious moments are all lost in the tide..._

It is said that turmoil is a thing; like a presence; in life, that is overcome-able. Legolas, however, could not see how this was even possibly true, for the turmoil that which held his heart in a vice like grip felt as though it would never go away. He stood on the beach, his velvet green boots half sunken in the sand. It was white, he mused. White, as though this place and this day were pure and perfect. But it was the opposite. He knew. His whole soul was screaming it at him.

A cool breeze wafted gently about him and toyed with his cream tunic and the tendrils of his hair, blowing them about his angular face. His perfect, flawless, _immortal_face. Fair features that should never be touched by Middle-earth's sins were now covered with grief. This Elf had been tainted. Legolas Greenleaf, Crown Prince of Eryn Lasgalen, had been cursed with the love for a Mortal.

It was dangerous. He had known it from the start. The tiny child of Imladris; innocent and pure, had stolen his heart from the moment he had looked into those silver eyes. Estel grew, proving that the beauty Legolas had immediately seen in him was indeed the core of his being. It was as if that one Mortal could shine brighter for him than any of the stars in the sky. And – having not had one who was there for him as Aragorn began to be – Legolas welcomed that with open arms, and... Estel became a part of him.

That was it. From the time the Man was able to harbor such boughs of love in his heart – nay, before that – he and the Prince were eternally bound. Joined at the hip, Lord Elrond used to fondly say. And they were.

That was why it hurt so much.

How on Arda had he believed he would be able to bear this? The ship that he gazed at; bitterly aye; was... beautiful. Its towering masts seemed to reach towards the dawn sky, blending in with the streaks of orange and red. On its vast sides were carvings – he knew, he had labored through putting them there – of the ethereal Valar, standing in stark contrast against the silver paint of the vessel. The Grey Ship. 'Tis what it was called.

Elbereth, it was gorgeous. Legolas did not deny that. Nor did he deny that knowing it was going to carry him from Middle-earth was – literally – killing him inside. He could see Gimli, trudging about the top deck with a perfectly content expression on his face as he checked over provisions. Legolas felt a spark of warmth. His friend was such a faithful Dwarf. _'I am not letting that Elf go all by his lonesome,_' Gimli had said when he had asked him to accompany him to Valinor. And the Prince also knew that his stout friend longed to gaze upon Lady Galadriel again. The Dwarf was anxious to be off.

Legolas wished he could feel that bliss; harbor that excitement that he was finally following his kindred's call home. But – as it was – the only thing he felt was… pain. Guilt. He was giving up. And he knew it.

Lady Galadriel had told him that night in her warning. Told him of the flight of the gulls, and the power that they held over an Eldar's spirit. _"Legolas Greenleaf, long under tree; in joy thou hast lived. Beware of the Sea! If thou hearest the cry of the gull on the shore, thy heart shall rest in the forest no more ." _†

He had heard the cry of the white birds. A simple mistake; for none of them had been thinking about the danger it was to the Elf when they had boarded the Corsair ships to sail to Minas Tirith in the hour of war – and that was it. None of them had been thinking anything on the fate. And so that was Legolas' downfall: He was cursed with the scream of the gull, therefore enraptured with the longing of the Sea.

But he had fought. Iluvitar knows he had fought it with everything he had because he did not _want_ to be enraptured with the longing of the Sea; no matter his kin. He did not _want_the only true peace he would ever find to be away from Middle-earth.

That was the reason he would not heed the gulls cry. He had told Aragorn that he would remain in Middle-earth until the King of Men had drawn his last breath. That was his oath, and he had kept it for so many years… He had his reason. And so he ignored his origin. At first he had not had to try. His soul still found its rest in the company of Aragorn, and the King's family; and he found no reason in even thinking of the Sea. He resumed his serene life – Greenleaf, Lord of Ithilien, ever at his friend's side.

But then... It began to stir. The waves of longing, slowly, yet steadily began to boil within his heart, and more often did the cries of the gulls echo in his mind. The Elf's reason became at war with itself. And one night, perched upon his balcony, Legolas had heard the Sea whisper his name… and his heart had stood still in sudden longing.

It never; not once; went away after that. The feeling continued to grow and rise, to consume his attention. It came to the point where he couldn't simply relax with the royal family – laugh with Aragorn and Arwen, find peace in their children's giggles and their warm conversations. Every moment, every day, his soul was focused on the Sea to the west, even when his mind or eyes were fixed on a thing or a person he cherished.

It was not long before Aragorn began to notice that an unfamiliar shadow had fallen over the Prince, veiling the usual glimmer in his midnight eyes. When the King of Gondor was finally able to coax out of his friend what was bothering him so, the Man had swallowed the grief the words brought upon him for Legolas' sake. And then Aragorn had released him from his oath.

_"I cannot begin to tell you what you mean to me, Legolas. Since I was a child, you have been the only person who; to both my eye and my heart; have not left my side through any of the perils that I have faced – and they are many. In any shadow of doubt or fear; before the Ring and on the Quest; I could turn – and there you stood. You felt my pain as keenly as if it were your own. We are bound, you and I, Legolas, Prince of the Elves. But this is one battle that we cannot win. I shall not try. Neither should you. Right now, at this hour, I release you from the oath you swore to me long ago against my bidding: You no longer have to remain on this Middle-earth 'til I draw my last breath. My love for you is yet stronger than my selfish desire to keep you here against the call of your heart. I bid you; go and follow the longing. Return to your home. Ease the suffering of your soul; you have ever been meant to sail to the place of beauty over the Sea. There you will find tranquility and the peace that you deserve. And I will find the most joy in knowing that you, my beloved companion, are resting there, and are able for the first time to live in bliss, and be reunited with your kin."_

And then Aragorn had embraced him with all of the gentle warmth that had been in his voice, and Legolas had felt some of the pent-up misery in his heart melt as he relaxed in those familiar arms. In them he found only understanding; or at least as much as a Mortal; even of the Numorean race; was able to understand the bitter Sea Longing of the Elves. But Aragorn had been unable to keep hidden the tears in his eyes when they parted.

And so Legolas, feeling his heart clench at the bravery his friend was trying to show, had tried vainly to soothe him with words of comfort. _"Even if my oath was against your bidding, to it I will hold. Just as your Lady Evenstar cannot live without you in her way, nor can I. I can think of nothing worse than sailing to Valinor and leaving you behind, Estel. I do not want a world of even the most lighthearted joy and laughter if you are not there. In fact, I do not think it would be bearable if you were not there. I cannot leave. I will not leave you. Not yet. While I am still in your presence, I will be fine."_

What a liar he had been.

For the remainder of that evening the palace of Minas Tirith had celebrated a treaty that King Elessar had finally; after long months of wearying debate; settled with the land of Harad. There was loud music, and dancing, and mingling, and, of course, feasting in the Great Hall. Remaining at his friend's elbow throughout the celebrating Legolas had been distracted for a while from his turmoil, able to smile with the guests and be proud of Aragorn – indeed did that pride shine in his eyes every time he gazed upon the King. For a while they were both content to be surrounded by their loved ones and many men filled with laughter and love for their lord.

But that night, after the celebration had settled to cool embers and everyone in Minas Tirith was deep in slumber, Legolas once more found himself alone. He stayed in Elessar's palace that evening. Yet, from his balcony there, he was able to hear the whispers of the Sea more clearly than in Ithilien. And it only grew, snatching away the last traces of light heartedness of the night.

Seven days after that, his father sailed.

That was Legolas' ruin. Accompanying the King of Eryn Lasgalen to the Havens, the Prince once again stood fully bared before the monster that had stolen his peace. Even after the ship that carried his father had disappeared from his sight Legolas remained standing rigid on the sand, watching the emerald waves of the Sea; tipped with rich foam; crash upon one another, rolling out for endless miles of sparkling blue and green. How could something so beautiful be wrought with so much pain?

Mesmerized, the Prince had slowly – and without thought – began to ponder his reason for resisting such a magnificent call. He had been released from his oath; therefore Elessar clearly did not _need_him any longer. The rest of the Elves had all sailed, or at least Middle-earth seemed to be emptied of them. And his father had gone.

And then, a memory passed before Legolas' dazed eyes.

~.~.~

_He was an Elfling still, though had for the most part lost the innocence of childhood. He and King Thranduil were perched comfortably in the lower braches of a tree just off the skirts of the Great Gates, enjoying the cool solitude of the rosy morning; and had sifted through many topics: of councils, how large the spiders had grown, how archery and knife training had progressed._

_And then Prince Legolas had quietly asked, "Ada, are princes allowed to sail at the same time as kings?"_

_Thranduil had not been expecting such a question from his young son. "Well, ion nin, sometimes the prince must stay and carry on his father's reign."_

_"Will I have to?"_

_"I... I do not know." The King was at a loss. Why was the Prince so solemnly bringing up the Sea? "You may, yet you may not."_

_Legolas was not satisfied. "How will we know?"_

_Sighing, Thranduil considered his words for several moments before speaking them. "I wish I knew. The world is changing, Legolas, and the ages we are in one can never be certain of. I pray that the darkness will be diminished before a time may come when you have to rule in my stead. For if it, is all of the Elves will be able to pass into peace."_

_"To Valinor?"_

_"Yes, to Valinor. 'Tis the place where the Firstborn were ever meant to be."_

_"I hope we all are able to go before I must be King," Legolas sighed, and his father hid a fond grin. "It sounds so beautiful. And I do not want to be parted from you, even for one day."_

_Thranduil's heart softened at the words and he drew his young son against his side, placing a kiss on his golden head. "I hope for that as well, ion nin. But you must be ready if ever it unfolds otherwise."_

_"I am." The quiet voice was firm with innocent confidence. "But if it is not: I will sail with you, no matter when, Ada. There is nothing that could ever keep me from that."_

~.~.~

It had been so long ago, yet it stood out sharply in Legolas' troubled mind. _'There is nothing that could ever keep me from that.'_

There hadn't been; not at the time. Not until Legolas had held a small babe in his arms and gazed into those silver eyes. And thus was the reason he tarried in Middle-earth - even though his father had gone. But why? He had promised...

_"Legolas?" _Broken from his daze by the soft voice, the Elf Prince had turned to find Aragorn gazing at him. There was worry and unfathomable tenderness in the Man's eyes that had brought his tears of grief forward. Aragorn's entire face had softened as he held out a hand. _"You are not alone, my friend."_Legolas had not had to take two steps before he was gently wrapped in his friend's arms, and Aragorn had held him, silent, while he wept. The red sun was sinking when Elf and Mortal had left the Havens to begin travel back to Gondor.

And evermore did the question flit through Legolas' weary mind: He had promised his father, therefore… was staying worth it?

Standing now before his vessel, the Prince still had no answer. Yet he had finally given up the fight, for the Man that was his reason had bid him do so. But if it was what they both wanted... why did it hurt so much?

~.~.~

Queen Undomiel stood silently inside of the balcony to the royal chambers, gazing out over the courtyard of Minas Tirith that glistened in the light of the rising sun. The streaks glinted off of the sparkling depths of her ageless eyes and she breathed in deeply, letting the morning breeze softly push her dark hair back from her slender shoulders. Even here, in a City of Men, the rising of the Sun was breathtaking, no matter how many times she stood to admire it. It was how she loved to begin her day.

Yet, this morning, the serenity of it was to be shattered.

The door to the room was opened quietly and Arwen turned, unsurprised to see her husband stepping into the threshold. "Good morning, my love," the Elleth said with a soft smile as she made to move towards him.

Aragorn moved first. As soon as he saw his wife he rushed forward, and Arwen only caught a glimpse of his unusually anguished face before he enveloped her in his arms. Startled, the Queen's surprise only grew when she felt that Aragorn was trembling violently, clutching handfuls of her silken gown. "Estel, beloved, what is wrong?" she breathed against his ear as she slipped her arms around him and held him close.

Her only answer was the sound of a muffled sob. Though she was greatly unnerved she began to rock the strong King, stroking his dark hair and whispering tender, soothing sentiments. After several moments his death grip on her loosened to a desperate embrace and, finally, the Man spoke, his voice raw with emotion. "He's gone."

Arwen was not any less confused. "Who is gone?"

Suddenly pulling back, Aragorn drew a parchment from his pocket and slammed it down on the night table. Anger had joined the anguish in his tone and gaze. "Legolas. He departed this morning – with a _letter_. He is gone."

Dread slowly began to form in the Queen's heart and she moved forward, lifting the letter to read after casting a glance to where her husband had collapsed onto a bench near the balcony. As her cerulean eyes followed the graceful Elvish script, Arwen felt her mind go numb with horror.

_Estel,_

_Before I begin, I want you to know that you have my love. No matter what may happen, or where our paths may lead us, you must know that. I hope you do. I am not talented in formalities nor farewells. I will not try to dress this up in false beauty and peace, but I will not lie. This is the hardest thing I have ever had to do… and I have no one to blame but myself._

_I am leaving, my friend. I am so sorry, but the call of the Sea has taken me, and I know not what else to do. I will not burden you with helping me bear it, nor anyone else. I'm not going to plead for you to understand the depths of my longing, but I do beg for your forgiveness. I swore to never leave you, Estel, and yet 'tis what I am doing now... and it hurts. You are what I will miss the most, and tainting you with the curse of the Elves is what I shall regret the most._

_But I do not regret being your friend. Nor do I regret any of the times we shared, or the perils we faced. Watching you grow in wisdom and strength was what brought me my joy. And the time that you claimed lordship of Gondor and took Arwen for your wife was what I had prayed you would be graced with, because it is everything you deserved, my dear friend. It has been an honor to be at your side for all of these long years, and to watch your children grow, and continue to be a part of your life._

_I do not believe Iluvitar cruel enough to separate us forever. In my heart I know that we will somehow meet again. I shall long for that day. As you once told me: You are my brother in everything but name. Our friendship is one to weather the mists of time; one that does not waver at a wind._

_I ask only that you do not forget me. Throughout your remaining days, as you continue to flourish in hope and peace, I pray that I am remembered, for you shall always be on my mind. And do not despair because of this, Estel. You have so many things to live for. And I am but one of the people who love you. I will not bid you to not weep – for my heart is torn by this as well. But do not see this as an end._

_Gimli sends his love. The whole time, my friend, he has been complaining that we are not leaving soon enough. He says that he does not wish to be 'caught up in a storm', (but I know that he merely is over anxious to see his Lady Galadriel again)._

_I will miss you, my friend. I hope that one day you will understand why I must leave this way. Tell Arwen and the little ones that I love them. And I will say what I did not say enough: I love you, Estel._

_Namárië._

_~Legolas_

__Arwen's eyes were full of tears as she let the parchment fall softly back onto the night table and turned once more to her husband. For a moment she hesitated, for the first time at loss for words, her own sorrow lodged in her throat. Yet when Aragorn leaned forward and buried his face in his hands she moved forward and knelt in front of him, wrapping her arms around his trembling frame.

"He is at peace," she whispered.

The Man raised his moist face to stare into her soft eyes. "But why didn't he say goodbye?" he choked and Arwen took his hands, pressing them to her lips. "I did not even get to thank him. My entire life he has been there, and now - he's gone." Against his will, a sob rose in his throat and the King barely managed to choke it back, clenching his eyes tightly shut. "Why did he have to leave today?"

"His heart has long been bowed with the longing, my love," Arwen murmured as soothingly as she could.

Aragorn shook his head and leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers. "No, Arwen, that is not what I mean," he whispered and the Elleth gazed at him in confusion. The confusion, however, soon dimmed – and was replaced with tender sympathy as she grasped the meaning of his words. The Man swallowed when he noticed it. "He forgot."

"He did not mean to forget, Estel."

"He never has before! Ever." His voice broke again and so he hid his face miserably in his wife's neck. "Why does he have to gift me with leaving on my birthday?"

Arwen had no answer for his heartbroken words and thus she simply held him in silence as the sun filled their chamber. When Aragorn's tears were spent, and a bitter serenity enveloped the couple, only several moments passed before the Man suddenly tensed and raised his head.

Releasing him, Arwen followed his gaze to the balcony. "What is it?" she murmured when there she saw nothing. The King's silver eyes were wide in what seemed astonishment, and he tilted his head, as if listening. The Elleth started in surprise when Aragorn gasped and abruptly leapt to his feet. He sprinted for the door, stopping only to cast his crown onto the bed.

The Queen stood and called after him, "Estel, where are you going?"

"He has not left yet!" the Man shouted from the hall, already past the door. "I still have time!"

"How do you know?"

"I just know, Arwen! I can feel it!"

The sound of his footsteps faded. Sighing, Arwen moved out onto the balcony and turned her glittering gaze southward, drawing her silken robe more tightly about her. Her soft words floated on the breeze. "Oh, Legolas, I can only imagine how hard this must be for you. I hope that you are making the right choice. Listen to your heart, mellon nin. 'Tis the only thing that shall lead you towards what should be."

~.~.~

The time had come. Legolas could no longer deny his choice.

Gimli stepped up to the rail of their ship and gazed at the slender Prince, standing desolate on the edge of the shore; hesitating for a moment in calling for him. It broke the Dwarf's heart to merely glimpse the agony on Legolas' face, and momentary doubt flickered through Gimli's mind.

Was this a mistake? He did not know why, but somehow sailing now, like this, did not seem right. Though both Legolas and Aragorn were very close to him, he knew that he was not near as bound as they were. The Dwarf knew enough to know that the Elf Prince departing would leave an open wound on the King of Gondor's heart. Especially if they went like this – without even saying goodbye.

Sighing, Gimli leaned against the wood railing and wearily ran his hands over his bearded face. It did not matter what his conscious was telling him. Legolas had made his choice. The ship was ready. He had but to say it.

Yet, just before he did... a shrill whiney split the air, and both of them turned in surprise.

A lone steed was thundering up the silver deck of the Haven Home and came to a nimble halt at its end. There Elthain stood, sides heaving from the exertion of the unmerciful run, sleek brown coat glistening with sweat. The Man mounted upon him appeared just as winded as he heaved himself from the saddle and – without pause for breath – flew down the bridge stairs, robe flying behind him as he desperately ran across the white sand towards the ship. "Legolas! Wait! Please, wait!"

That was what shocked Legolas from his stupor and the horrified Elf choked, backing away from the approaching Man. Valar, his heart could not bear this…

Catching sight of his lithe form Aragorn all but quickened his run, crying out again, "Legolas, please! I am here!"

Legolas shook his head violently and turned from him, darting up the entry -ramp of the ship and screaming to Gimli, "Raise the sails, Gimli; go! GO!"

He was still yards away from the vessel, yet the words reached Aragorn's ears and pierced his heart. His friend was fleeing from him. The King finally let the over exertion of the dangerous travel there – along with the agony of his loss – overwhelm him, and when his foot caught in a hole he did not even attempt to right himself. He plummeted to the sand and knelt there, chest heaving, breath coming in ragged gasps. He was forgotten. It was over.

But Legolas saw him fall. Gimli refused to simply flee from the heartbroken King and stood next to the helm, glaring at his elven companion. At first Legolas had moved to untie the ropes himself, desperate to leave, to run from the source of the pain that tore at his heart. But he had watched Aragorn collapse, and the fear that flared inside of him at the sight had overridden his grief. Estel was hurt. That was all that mattered then.

Without thought, Legolas vaulted over the rail, and as soon as his booted feet touched shore he took off at a dead run. It was mere seconds before he reached the King. Kneeling in front of him and sliding a hand under Aragorn's chin to raise it, the Elf Prince met the tear filled eyes of his friend. "You fool," he breathed. "You scared me."

Grasping the Elf's hands, Aragorn clenched them tightly in his own and stared unflinchingly into the grief-stricken gaze. "Legolas, I must tell you something before you go. I know that you are leaving for Valinor, and I rejoice for you; no matter what it may look like now. I did not come to beg you to stay. I only wanted to thank you, for everything that you have done for me, and... I needed to say goodbye."

"You are not making this any easier, Aragorn," Legolas whispered and the Man managed to crack a smile through his tears, squeezing his fingers.

"I know. This is not something that _can_be easy. But how could Iluvitar ever hope to keep one of his children from the place he belongs? Many goodbyes are sacrifices, but good ones. I simply would not be able to sleep knowing that I lost you so suddenly, without letting you know how much you've meant to me for my entire life. Without that goodbye."

Legolas shook his head, dropping his eyes resolutely to the sand. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "But I must go, Estel. I must."

"I know," was Aragorn's quiet answer. Legolas looked up into his eyes once more. In them he read the opposite of what the Man had bravely managed to say. _'Please, Legolas, please understand. I cannot see my life without you. It will not be easy to let you go so soon. This goodbye is something I've never wanted.'_

Something in that gaze brought the Elf up short. As he knelt with his dearest friend, for some reason... he could not quite remember why he had chosen to sail. How could he leave this? Here was a friend who had ridden from Gondor to the Havens, only to bid him joy on his journey – that would _separate_them. A Man who was willing to shove his own anguish to the back of his mind so that he may be able to smile for his friend one last time.

_One last time._

It was abrupt. But suddenly 'one last time' was not enough. The Elf's jaw clenched, and his gaze hardened with intent. He was not going to destroy both he and his companion simply because he was in pain. It was there – on the shore of the Sea – that Legolas realized that the pain of leaving would be much greater than the pain of staying. There was no Estel in Valinor. Yes, the Elvenhome was a place of beauty and tranquility, but it was not the joy he wished for now. The company of his brother of heart; of his friends _here_; was more than enough.

"Legolas?" The soft, tentative voice broke into his thoughts and Legolas came out of his reverie, once more focusing on the Man in front of him. Aragorn had still not released his hands and was staring at him, almost fearfully. An immediate smile touched the Prince's face and the King nearly face faulted in shock at the abrupt peace that replaced the agony in his friend's features. "Legolas, what on Arda-?"

"Oh, Estel, I was so wrong," Legolas said softly as he pulled Aragorn's hands against his chest, sparkling blue eyes locked on stunned silver. "I should have known. How could I have even _considered_leaving?"

"Legolas, you were ever meant to sail," the King managed to stutter and the Elf smiled, shaking his head.

"That may be so," he replied, a slow, amazed smile spreading along his lips. "But not yet. I will have countless ages to spend in Valinor. Yet I only have this time with you; with all of you – here and now; and it will never be enough. I shall from now on treasure what time I have left."

Aragorn was unable to respond. Drawing in a deep breath, he gazed at his friend and felt his heart abruptly lighten, as if a weight had been lifted. Legolas was not leaving. Not yet. Four simple words - four simple words that may have held the world. Despite himself, the King smiled, and his smile was so bright that the Elf Prince laughed and wrapped his arms around his friend. Aragorn returned the fierce embrace, his heart and soul reassured by the firm weight of his friend against his chest. "_Le hannon_," he murmured.

Several yards away, watching from the rail of the ship, Gimli could not contain the laugh that bubbled from within at the sight of the two friends. He turned, shaking his head in fond exasperation, and began stride to unready the ship for sail. It would not be needed for quite some time.

"I'm glad I came," Aragorn murmured and Legolas smiled, resting his cheek on the dark head.

"Me too, Estel. And I am sorry for thinking that I could-"

"Stop apologizing," the Man chided, giving the Prince a gentle squeeze. "There was no wrong in your heart. There was only the call of your kin."

"'Tis no excuse-"

"Legolas!" the muffled groan was exasperated and said Elf chuckled. "Do not ruin the beauty of the moment, prissy prince. Just hush."

"You have already resorted to mocking me again?"

"Hush."

Smiling, Legolas released him and sat back on his heels. Aragorn glanced at him from the corner of his eyes, a grin spreading across his own face as he dropped an arm on the Elf's shoulder, leaning against him. A warm silence fell over them for several moments, in which they could hear the gentle rustling of the waves, and a faint tune that Gimli hummed to himself upon the vessel.

"Aragorn?" Legolas' soft whisper did not break the serenity of their surroundings.

The Man turned his head, but the Elf kept his eyes fixed on the waves, the sinking sun reflected off of their ageless depths. "Yes?"

It was quiet for a moment. When one last gull gave a low cry overhead, Legolas watched the bird dip towards the waves before turning to his friend. His smile outshone the sun. "Happy birthday, my dearest friend."

**fin.**

_† : Galadriel's warning to Legolas in "The Lord of the Rings – The Fellowship of the Ring"_


End file.
